Page 86 of When Hearts Collide

I need to find this woman and tell her to go home. Then, I’ll hit the gym and bury myself in work. The files to review for the IPO. The assignments to grade.

The alluring scent taunts me and my blood heats, my heart beginning a war chant in my rib cage. The smell. The fucking smell.

Millie.

But it can’t be, can it?

I begin the chase.

Chapter 34

My heart pounds so loudly, I swear that alone will give away my location. Someone or something is here with me, I’m sure of it.

It has to be him, right? Rational thoughts cease to make sense anymore. My feet pick up speed as I walk faster.

I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.

I remind myself of what Sofia Kent told me when she walked me through the rules of Noire. She looked me in the eye and said I had all the power here. There would be security wearing night vision goggles patrolling the space, out of sight from us but close enough where if I were to scream the safe word or press the button on the sturdy silver cuff affixed to my wrist, they would come and rescue me.

I know I am safe. My mind knows that. Logic tells me that. I’m in a building in the middle of Manhattan.

But my subconscious hasn’t gotten the memo, apparently. Because as I’m walking between the towering trees looming over me like monsters in the dark, hearing the rustling of the leaves trembling against the branches, seeing the eerie moonlight casting ghostly shadows on the dark grounds ahead of me, every fight-or-flight response in my body turns on.

Everything feels real.

My breathing is shallow. My pulse is rickety in my ears.

Dark shapes loom in the distance.

More trees? An abandoned building of some sort? I can’t quite make out the objects under the inky, gloomy night.

My feet stumble over something on the ground and I let out a screech before my hand flies to my mouth to stem the noise. The underbrush looks dark and foreboding, a devil lurking in the bottomless abyss, its tendrils slithering and swaying, and I knot my hands in fists as the sounds of my ragged breathing escape from my lips.

An owl hoots in the distance, a ghostly echo. I hear faint pitter pattering of footsteps, like some nocturnal animal is scurrying out of my way as I trample on the uneven path before me. There are no animals, are there? There can’t be. The wind kicks up, a haunted howl tearing through the tall, menacing trees and sweat beads on the back of my neck.

I fight every impulse to run.

But run where?

Crackle.

I freeze, my ears perking up at the sound.

It’s an animal. It has to be an animal. Or is it him?

I swallow as my heart pounds against my rib cage. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. I hold my breath.

Snap. Crackle.

Every hair on my body stands at attention and my hands shake at my sides.

It’s him.

The lasered focus of his stare at my back. The familiar heat making the hairs on my neck stand at attention. The hunter, the predator, not the man. His footsteps are stealthy, but I can feel each thump approaching me. It’s like he’s taunting me. Fear or excitement claws in my throat and my body burns with jittery energy.

The muscles in my legs twitch, my body choosing flight in his presence.

Logic ceases to make sense and I run.

---